


You Always Ask

by secondsofhappiness



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: Couch Cuddles, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 21:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17169620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondsofhappiness/pseuds/secondsofhappiness
Summary: Post Martino & Niccolò.A snapshot from their afternoon: sleepy cuddles and reminders that all will be fine.





	You Always Ask

**Author's Note:**

> [Notes at the end]

It’s so _warm_.

Marti smiles, leaning his head back against the arm of the sofa they’ve been sprawled out on for hours. It’s a tight fit but it’s cosy and Nico seems to slot in perfectly, right alongside him, tucked in the space between Marti and sofa.

Nico is asleep. Sleep seems to help, Marti is learning, but he knows he will always try to keep Nico present, to keep him in the sunlight and away from the edge as best he can. It’s a Saturday evening at the end of a difficult week. They have talked a lot, eaten a little and touched always. Sleep is good today.

It’s all clearer now, Marti thinks, taking in the room: orange glowing lamps, a thick knit blanket, a discarded hoodie on the floor, TV flickering, Nico’s scarf and coat folded over a chair.

It’s messy. It’s _perfect_.

Nico shuffles a little in his sleep, nose pressing into Marti’s chest briefly before he settles again, quiet and all furrows on his brow smoothed away in an instant. Marti tucks his chin down to press a kiss to dark curls and strokes soft lines down Nico’s back, over and over and over until his own eyes start to close, heavier with every slow even breath.

———————

Marti wakes slowly to a tickle at his side and Nico is shuffling to sit up, rubbing his eyes, a blanket tucked around his shoulders.

He’s small, Marti thinks, the edges of a smile at his lips because Nico is also so all encompassing in Marti’s life, has walked in and changed everything. It’s so enormous, so delicate, so certain, so complicated, so simple; it’s _everything_ all at once.

Life isn’t easy. Nothing _ever_ is, but sneakily watching Nico blink awake and press one warm kiss to Marti’s arm, there’s nothing else that matters in the world.

“You ready to eat?” Marti asks eventually as Nico looks down at him, eyes still a little raw but cheeks pink and hair wild. He’s so beautiful that Marti can’t help but reach out, smoothing down one errant strand. He laughs under his breath at the wrinkle on Nico’s nose. _Adorable_.

“Not really,” is the answer but it’s truthful. “But thank you.”

“Just let me know when you are ready to eat and I can cook us some pasta. The good kind.”

The joke’s implied and Nico catches it, smiling a little, pulling the edges of the blanket to his chest. Marti watches him for a moment, gently playing with the string of his own hoodie that looks like it was made for Nico. Marti never wants it back, wants it to keep Nico warm, to wrap around him always.

Nico is quiet, brain busy. Marti can seen it all of a sudden, the beginnings of a frown, Nico’s shoulders edging in a fraction and he feels his own throat tighten, eyes fill for a moment because it’s unfair and difficult to witness but, above all, something so far out of Nico’s control.

Without thinking, Marti sits up and slides an arm around Nico’s shoulder and brings him down to his chest, tucking the blanket in tight. He waits, let’s Nico decide if this is ok which it must be because after only seconds, Nico’s weight presses down into Marti’s chest and he sighs deep.

“Is this ok?” he asks because he’s still learning, still trying but relying purely on instinct. He’s letting his heart take control. The feelings between them don’t feel fragile at all as Marti wraps his arms tighter and smiles into Nico’s hair, hoping that it’s enough, that what they feel and this instinct will be what makes it work.

“Yes,” Nico says eventually. He’s a solid weight against Marti’s side, a comforting overwhelming weight and Marti closes his eyes and focuses on the swell in his chest, the hot breath against his neck and the warm glow of the room. They have time and space and truth and each other and it’s not until Nico speaks again that Marti feels his heart stutter in his chest.

“You always ask questions,” Nico says softly, lazily like he’s on the way to sleep. “Thank you.”

They’ll be _fine_.

**Author's Note:**

> Because as the season unfolded I kept saying that there was a running theme of Marti always asking Nico questions and I loved it so much. Then we realised how Nico struggled and it became the loveliest and most meaningful thing. I just had to write about it!


End file.
